


Righteous

by draculard



Series: Pellaeon/Thrawn 30 Day Ficlets [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Established Relationship, Flirting, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Speaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: It was just like Thrawn to force him to make a public speech and then laugh at him in the middle.
Relationships: Gilad Pellaeon/Thrawn | Mitth’raw’nuruodo
Series: Pellaeon/Thrawn 30 Day Ficlets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904581
Kudos: 26





	Righteous

Mid-speech, he glanced across the table and caught Thrawn smiling at him. It almost threw him off-balance; he hesitated in the middle of a word — a barely perceptible hesitation — and then fumbled on. 

It was just like Thrawn to force him to make a public speech and then laugh at him in the middle, he thought with an internal scowl. The admiral certainly wasn’t laughing _yesterday_ , when he all but begged Pellaeon to take his speech-making responsibilities away. 

_I can’t write to save my life, Gilad,_ he’d tried first, and when that didn’t work, he’d resorted to flattery ( _But you’re so much better at inspiring the troops than I am, Gilad; you’re a natural leader_ ) and then he’d appealed to Pellaeon’s sympathetic nature ( _Surely you don’t want to see me make a fool of myself up there_ ) and then he’d pulled out his staple: plain old passive-aggression with a hint of manipulation thrown in for extra spice ( _Actually, perhaps it’s better if I handle it. We don’t want any unfortunate slips mid-sentence_ ).

But Pellaeon had held out all the way through Thrawn’s extortions. He’d made it to the pleading stage in record time, and couldn’t help but congratulate himself on it even here, a day later, in public and in the middle of his speech.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he forced himself back on track.

“—the velvet fist of the Empire—”

And so on.

“—will crush the careless criminals and disgraced politicians who make up the Rebellion—” 

And so forth. It was all rather automatic, really. His lips moved, his tongue pressed against his teeth, and he recited all the right words without thinking them. His eyes strayed to the empty seat next to Thrawn, then to Thrawn himself, still watching Pellaeon with that knowing, cat-like, almost invisible grin. 

His mind strayed even further.

To the _pleading_ section of Thrawn’s unending persuasive essay the night before.

To Thrawn on his knees before Pellaeon, his hands on the captain’s thighs, his own legs spread artfully to give Pellaeon a glimpse of the tent in his trousers. 

To Thrawn, his eyes burning, his lips parted almost sullenly, just far enough to take the head of Pellaeon’s cock.

To the elegant, _you know I hate this, you owe me one_ look on Thrawn’s face as he sucked Pellaeon off.

Suddenly, Pellaeon found himself clamping his own mouth shut, cheeks burning as he circled the table and took his seat, legs trembling. The speech was over; he’d have no idea whether he’d ended it naturally or not until later, when he had time to review the holovid in private. Glancing around the table, he was relieved to see that no one was looking at him strangely, like he’d made a fool of himself. 

He sagged a little in relief, then glanced sideways, caught Thrawn’s eye, and flushed again. He pretended not to notice the smirk on Thrawn’s face. 

“Captivating speech, Captain,” Thrawn whispered to him, his lips coming dangerously close to Pellaeon’s ear. “So passionate. So … righteous.”

He lifted one fist almost jauntily, mimicking the gesture Pellaeon had made when he said the words ‘velvet fist.’ God, had he really said the words ‘velvet fist’ aloud? And on _film_? Pellaeon made a concerted effort to scowl his blush away. 

“You don’t get to make fun of a speech you coerced me into writing at the last minute,” he hissed back when he was certain no one was looking their way.

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. “I’m not making fun of you,” he said in an unconvincing murmur. “Truly, I enjoyed it. In fact, I’d appreciate a repeat performance, if you don’t mind. Perhaps later?”

As if Pellaeon didn’t already get what he was hinting at, Thrawn nudged him in the shoulder.

“In private?” he added, barely mouthing the words. Pellaeon flicked his eyes to the sky in a quick, subtle eye-roll and then met Thrawn’s gaze, making sure the word _unamused_ was stamped all over his face. Thrawn held his eyes, his own face unreadable. Gradually, his lips started to curve up into a smirk.

Oh, so he was teasing Pellaeon? So he thought he had the upper hand here? 

As if. 

“Beg for it,” Pellaeon told him with a flippant shrug, turning back to his food. “I’d like a repeat performance, too.”

He said it just loud enough to make Thrawn’s smirk disappear.


End file.
